Chapter Text
(Chapter one)
- I know the audio file doesn’t work, I’m still trying to figure it out (I’m horrid with technology)
Lucifer will never say that he hated someone. It just wasn’t in his nature to hate. Not really. However, the red deer standing in the corner of the room giving him the stink eye was certainly making his way up from the ‘heavily disliked’ to the ‘very heavily disliked’. Lucifer frowned as he tried to concentrate on the drawing he had started on. The sketch pad paper was crumpled slightly underneath the pressure of his thumb. He could feel Alastor’s gaze on him and it made him grit his teeth. It wasn’t that it was unpleasant, more, irritating to say the least.
After so many years of living in the castle, almost alone despite the occasional conversation with a rare staff member, suddenly living in the hotel with all of Charlie’s friends… It was an adjustment, to say the least.
Lucifer blinked at his sketch, mulling it over in his head before rubbing over the top of the duck and gifting it with a feathery hat.
As much as he liked to conjure stuff directly from his mind, it sometimes came out a bit odd. Conjuring takes a lot of mental effort and concentration to think up all of the exact details that you wanted the object to have, so it helped to have at least a rough sketch of the object first. (Besides, concentration wasn’t really Lucifer's strong point anyway.) He was currently making his way through duck idea number seven when a presence appeared behind him and he cut off a groan. His eyes flicked to where Alastor was originally standing, only to see nothing but a red wall.
‘My, my, what have we here?” Alastor's staticky voice interrupted a very nice cursed monologue in Lucifer's head and he decided that he was much too tired for this.
Lucifer swung his head back, landing it squarely on the pillow that Alastor was currently using as an obnoxious arm rest. Letting a smirk tug at his lips when an annoyed screech of radio was his reply.
Lucifer looked up to lock eyes with Alastor, a small smile on his face as he stated “ducks!” Then after little consideration he asked “wanna see?”
There was a moment of surprised silence, the only sound was the muffled buzz of a radio dial switching between stations when a small, admittedly confused, Alastor mumbled out a short “Sure.”
He graciously rounded the sofa and sat in the middle, just close enough so that Lucifer’s crossed legs were barely brushing against Alastor's coat. Lucifer closed the sketchbook and gently handed it to an expectant Alastor, relaxing slightly with the way that he held the sketchbook with a delicate care.
He watched Alastor with apt attention as red tipped fingers carefully flipped through each page. Lucifer saw as red eyes flickered over the pages, smile never fading and eyebrows raised.
“I never knew you could draw so well.”
Lucifer looked up from the page that Alastor had stopped on with a small questioning hum. Lucifer shrugged and leaned back, only just now realising that he had been leaning forwards slightly, “well, when you’ve got a couple centuries under your belt you learn a thing or two along the road.”
”I can imagine.” Alastor hummed sweetly, coming to the end of the sketchbook. The most recent design smiling up at him as he tiled his head so that Lucifer could see the mischievous smirk stretching his lips.
“All those centuries didn’t make you any taller though.”
Lucifer let his face fall in an affronted manner as Alastor chuckled, closing the sketchbook and dodging Lucifer’s hand as he attempted to grab the sketchbook back.
“What is it with you and my height?!”
Alastor let out a warm chuckle as he dissolved into shadows, taking the sketchbook with him, and leaving Lucifer kneeling on the couch. Pencil in hand and a bewildered expression.
That fucker stole my sketchbook!
It didn’t matter much, since he had accumulated many sketchbooks over the centuries, but still!
//
Lucifer trudged downstairs, his light blue pajamas decorated with small cartoon ducks and yellow slippers on his feet. In the quiet of the night, he could almost mistake Hell as being a pleasant place to live.
Lucifer couldn't sleep. It was a common occurrence and it didn't warrant much worrying. When Lucifer lived in the castle, he was able to go anywhere he liked, at any time of day. It was quite disconcerting sometimes. Especially if he didn't know if it was day or night. It didn't help that his body didn't actually need feeding. Or water. Or sunlight. It was good for him but he didn't need it. Not like sinners did.
This meant that he had spent many days locked up in his study, he was embarrassed about the amount of hours that he had spent staring at the wall. It probably wasn't healthy. Correction. It definitely wasn't healthy.
Staying at the Hotel helped though. At least he hoped it did. He got regular meals, and a routine. A schedule to stick to. This was before the sleepless nights however. When his mind would be a-buzz with thoughts and feelings and emotions. Dad, did Lucifer hate emotions.
He spent way too long just lying in bed during the first couple of nights, before it reminded him too much of– well, those times. So eventually, by the third night, he had managed to make a total of 53 separate rubber duck designs and had tried every single bubble bath scent under the sun.
Eventually, Lucifer had given up and had taken to wandering the halls. It was nice for a while. It was peaceful and quiet. It almost made him slightly drowsy. And he decided that maybe a cup of tea would be in order. A smile formed on his face as he thought about rummaging through the (frankly absurdly) large collection of herbal teas. He wondered who bought them. Who went to the shops and stared at the large collection of herbal teas and picked a different one each time.
That was until quiet buzzing wrapped round his ears. It had taken a moment to realise that, no it wasn't just in his head. He followed the buzzing down to the end of the corridor and into the main lobby. As he got closer, he could hear spurts of jazz floating through the air. Lucifer frowned as he descended the stairs, going off to the right in direction of the staff kitchen. He gently eased open the half closed door and stopped upon the scene he came across.
A mop of messy red hair was spread out against the table, ears drooped heavily and claws twitching against the tabletop.
An empty bottle of rye was gripped lightly in his clawed fingers. A shot glass had been discarded on the edge of the table and Lucifer frowned. As little as he knew about the radio demon, something in him told Lucifer that this wasn't normal behaviour. Or… not as normal as he’s been led to believe. If he’d found Husk here, that might have been a different story.
“Alastor?”
An ear flicked in his direction before stilling again, the only indication that he had heard Lucifer at all. His original mission of getting a cup of tea being forgotten as Lucifer made his way round the table.
“Alastor?” Lucifer called out, his voice low against the murmur of static. Another ear flick and a roll of the head. Oh good, he wasn't dead. If he was, Charlie would have probably killed him. Even if it wasn't Lucifer's own fault for the demise of the all powerful radio demon. His red hair was a state, more than it already usually was. Stuck up in all directions, almost as if he had been tugging on it. His red coat had been discarded, hopefully in his room since Lucifer couldn't see it anywhere. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows and missing suspenders. Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat when a tuft of red and white fur came into view, peeking out the bottom of Alastor’s untucked shirt.
“Al?” Lucifer leaned closer as Alastor let his head roll to the side and a red eye blinked up at him. It was hazy and unfocused but Alastor still let a smile stretch lazily across his face as he whispered “Lucifer?”
Lucifer furrowed his brows but nodded nonetheless “yeah, its me”
“Lucifer, my good man, what are you doing here?” Alastor's words were slurred and his radio static increased to a volume that made Lucifer’s teeth vibrate. He still had his head propped up on his arm and his ears drooped sleepily. The bottom of his red shirt moved slowly as his tail twitched, swaying side to side lethargically. Oh, that was so— no, no, absolutely not, he was not even going to finish that thought. He wasn’t going to have any witnesses to him almost calling the Radio Demon cute. Nuh uh, that’s between him and… well him.
“I could ask you the same question.”
“What question?”
Lucifer snorted slightly “nevermind, what do you say we get you back to bed?”
“Can’t– don't want to” Alastor supplied, burying his face back into the crook of his elbow.
“Why’s that?” Lucifer questioned, leaning his hip against the side of the table and gently prying Alastor's hand from the empty bottle. Once he did, the hand dropped onto the table with a loud thud.
“Can’t sleep” Alastor mumbled and Lucifer hummed sympathetically. Seems like he wasn't the only one who was up tonight. However, after a whole bottle of rye, Alastor was sure to be closer to sleeping than Lucifer was at this point.
“Your room would be much more comfortable than the kitchen table, I'm sure” Lucifer supplied, tilting his head as Alastor seemed to curl up in on himself. A long broken groan filtering through sharp teeth.
“Come on bellhop” Lucifer sighed, resigning his fate for the night as he conjured a glass of water. Sitting himself on the table next to Alastor’s head and presenting him with the glass of water.
Alastor took one look at it and buried his head back into his arms, ears pinned to the back of his head. Lucifer could make out a muffled "I'm not thirsty anymore.”
“It’ll help,” Lucifer pleaded, “I promise.”
He got another staticky groan for his troubles. Lucifer bit the inside of his cheek. How was he supposed to get Alastor upstairs? He could portal him there. That might be the best option at this point. Would a drunk Alastor walk though a random portal though? Hmm, probably not.
One of Alastor’s ears flicked and Lucifer’s attention was brought to the appendage. Here in the soft yellow lighting of the kitchen (and in his sleep depraved mind). They looked so soft.
Lucifer looked up and around the kitchen as though someone was going to pop out of nowhere and interrupt his train of thought. His eyes landed back on Alastor and he pursed his lips.
His hand reached out, running over the red strands of hair, flattening them as he went round Alastor's head. He was just making him look more presentable, yeah, of course. That's what he was doing.
Lucifer’s fingers twitched as he gently carded through Alastor's hair. Nails scratching ever so slightly against the base of his ears. They seemed to droop even more at his ministrations, shivering slightly as Lucifer’s claws moved from the top of his head down to the bottom. Lucifer didn’t notice the curl of Alastor’s claws against the table, only the way that he pushed his head slightly against Lucifer’s thigh. Against his claws skirting around his head.
Lucifer bit back a grin at the frantic wagging of Alastor’s tail against the bottom of his shirt. He failed miserably, but nobody was around to see how stupid his grin looked. God, Charlie would have a field day if she saw them like this. Finally thinking that they were getting along.
“Oh Bambi,” Lucifer’s voice strained with restrained glee, teasing slightly, “I didn't know you liked to be pet.”
“No…”
“No? You don’t like to be pet?”
Alastor shook his head.
Lucifer hummed, his smile wobbling slightly at the edges, trying to stretch wider than his face would allow.
“Alright…”
Lucifer withdrew his hands. Hovering them above Alastor's head slightly. An ear flicked, once twice. Both of them at the same time, almost searching for where the head scratches had gone.
Alastor whined a short sharp sound that sounded more animalistic than anything and pushed his forehead against the side of Lucifer’s thigh again, “why’d you stop?”
Oh, Lucifer was having way too much fun for this to be real.
“What’s wrong Bambi?” he giggled, “I thought you said you didn’t like being pet?”
There was a beat of silence, Lucifer's hand shaking with the amount of dopamine running through his brain.
“…continue,” a mumbled sigh sounded and a lazy piano piece floated through the air.
Lucifer lowered his hands but stopped, a plan forming in his mind. An ear flicked and a staticky whine started.
“I will…” Lucifer started “if you follow me to your room and go to bed.”
A grumble.
“You gotta go to bed at some point Bambi and I don’t think Charlie would appreciate finding you here, passed out and hungover at seven o’clock in the morning.”
“You’re so mean.”
Lucifer chuckled, “I’m the devil, kinda falls into my duristiction.” (…he thinks)
There was a groan, and a tightening of limbs before Lucifer felt himself physically melt into the floor. What the fuck?
The next thing he knows is he’s surfacing again on something soft and silky and fluffy all in the same and a pressure on his chest.
Alastor buries his face further into Lucifer’s stomach as the angel’s breath hitches. Alastor claws are wrapping around him and— yep, he can’t move. Stellar grip this guy has, sheesh. He wasn’t even that heavy, all lean muscles and pokey-bone bits.
The chirping of cicadas caught his attention and Lucifer turned his head to see a whole fucking bayou.
Seriously?!
A blurt of static interrupted his thoughts and Lucifer turned back to look down at Alastor, smile small and red eyes dimmed. Huh, this close he can make out soft white freckles on the deer’s face. How come he never noticed it before?
“Alast—“
“I brought you here,” Alastor started “my room— I’m in bed.”
Lucifer’s face started to heat up. No brain— not now, go away!
“Right, yeah— I did say, didn't I?”
Alastor leaned his head sideways and the word from earlier that he had refused to think resurfaced again. It didn’t help when he had a very clear sight of the way his tail flicked in anticipation, his shirt had ridden up during the transportation, ears twitching sprattically. Alastor looked up at him with red eyes, pupils so large that they almost looked black.
Lucifer sighed, accepting that maybe he wasn’t going to get out of this tonight without feeling really bad, and also coming to terms with the fact that no, he will not be getting his cup of tea.
He lifted his hands, in clear view of Alastor and laughed quietly at the way his pupils expanded further at the motion, ears lying flat against the sides of his head in anticipation.
Lucifer grinned, “you ready?” He didn’t expect the radio demon to give a small nod. He more expected a biting remark or retaliation, a shove out of the room. But when his hands landed on the top of his head a sharp, high pitched bleat sounded and Lucifer practically felt Alastor go boneless on top of him.
His hands dove further into the red strands as Lucifer spluttered, “I— did you just—?” A crackle of static sounded as Alastor’s right ear flicked and Lucifer’s left hand immediately came to stroke along the back of it while his right stayed situated at the top of his head. Rubbing over Alastor’s head, the fuzzy skin at the bottom of his antlers, the short fluffy hairs at the base of his ears.
“Holy shit Bambi,” Lucifer breathed, “how the hell did you convince all of hell that you’re a scary serial killer?”
“Because I am,” a mumbled voice bled through his shit and Lucifer grinned, squirming slightly when Alastor’s claws pricked at his skin.
“Yeah I know,” he mumbled, taking a soft breath and focusing his attention on the fur beneath his fingers, he doubted he would get another chance such as this, “Are you sure you’re not secretly a cat?”
Quiet buzzing static replied, Lucifer frowned and tried to crane his neck down to see Alastor’s face.
“Alastor?” He whispered, with no reply, the dawning realisation that the Radio Demon had fallen asleep on him hit him with full force.
Right. What the hell did he do now?
He could portal himself out of here, but with Alastor so close, he couldn't risk taking the demon along with him. A quiet piano melody started up as Lucifer’s fingers kept carding through Alastor’s hair.
Logic was knocking at the back of his mind. Telling him that he was supposed to be going, he was supposed to leave and go back to his own room and try to sleep.
But the body above him was so warm, and the sheets were so soft and the quiet piano piece floating through the air reminded him of rainy summer days in Eden.
He just hoped that Alastor didn’t mind if he closed his eyes, just for a moment.